


The Record Stands Somehow

by oneprotagonistshort



Series: Wrapped Up [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneprotagonistshort/pseuds/oneprotagonistshort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's New Year's Eve, and Sam is a man on a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Record Stands Somehow

**Author's Note:**

> I would apologize for how long this took me but I'm too ashamed of myself to even think about it.

Christmas had done Sam a lot of good. A quiet week with his family was exactly what he’d needed, and the soft smile his mom had given him when he’d mentioned that maybe sometimes he liked dudes a little more than previously thought had made him feel a lot better about life. He hadn’t been worried, but to have it out there and not have it be a big deal was nice.

Of course, “no big deal” was not a concept that Santana Lopez was familiar with.

“You came out of the closet and she just _smiled?!_ ” She turned to Sam with a purple nightgown in one hand and a red bra in the other. Sam looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard, and she laughed at his panicked expression. “Sam, don’t worry. I know you do both or whatever but in here it’s probably better if they just assume you’re exclusively into guys.”

Santana was right, they were standing in the middle of a Victoria’s Secret and Sam was trying very hard not to stare at the posters for too long, but he was only human and the weight of Santana’s shopping bags could only distract him so much. He wasn’t sure how she’d talked him into carrying her purse for her while she tried on clothes in the first place, but at least she’d brought snacks for him to eat while she hunted down the perfect New Year’s Eve dress. “Santana,” he warned, “Can you at least not yell?”

She sighed. “Fine, whatever. I still say you should have asked for an iPad or a pony or something. When I came out, my dad bought me a Prada messenger bag with the money he’d been secretly saving for prenatal care in case I got pregnant.”

“That’s not the point,” Sam shrugged, the motion hindered somewhat by the fact that he was weighed down by enough of Santana’s new clothes to dress a small and very stylish army. “Tone it down or I’ll start asking the sales girls if they carry maternity sizes.”

When she pointed at him and glared, he rolled his eyes. “Try it and I’m not taking you to a celebratory gay dinner later. Asshole.” The glare softened when she turned around to examine the table of 3 for $33 thongs, and Sam knew he’d gotten away with it, at least for the moment.

“Are we hitting up Breadstix?” he asked. “Because I could deal with you buying me a celebratory gay cake.”

\---

She did, in fact, end up buying him celebratory gay cake. Sam had been half-expecting something with glitter and sparklers after the conversation they’d had in Victoria’s Secret, but mercifully it was just normal chocolate cake with a small side of ice cream. He dug in right away, making a small noise of protest when Santana reached across the table with her fork to steal some.

“Calm your tits, Trouty. Even your cavernous cake-hole can’t handle all of this,” she said, and Sam begrudgingly pushed the plate towards the center of the table so they could share. Santana grinned smugly and asked, “So what’s the deal with you and Anderson? You hit that yet?”

Sam choked on a mouthful of ice cream and it took him a second to recover. “ _No,_ ” he said, “and you know why I haven’t. His thing with Kurt is kind of a problem.”

“Sounds to me like it _was_ a problem and then as soon as it started to go away, you made it a problem again,” she said, stealing another bite of cake when Sam stared blankly at her. “He did say he wanted to date you, right?”

“Yeah, I guess, but then like right after that he couldn’t get far enough away from me and then he lied to Finn,” he answered. “Obviously he didn’t want anyone to know what we were doing.”

Santana sighed and put down her fork. “I’m gonna ask you a question,” she said. “How many people, other than me and your parents, have you told about the gay thing?” Sensing Sam’s objection she corrected, “Whatever, the guy thing. The Blaine thing. How many people know?”

It took him a few seconds to think back and count but finally Sam had to admit, “No one, I guess. Just you and my mom and dad.”

Another deep sigh and Santana said, “Listen, I’m only helping you with this because watching you struggle with an unnecessary crisis when you could be getting some is like watching a largemouth bass try to flop its way out of the bottom of a rowboat, but did it ever occur to you that maybe he thought _you_ were the one who wanted to keep it quiet? He wasn’t just going to out you to Finn, we all know how that goes.”

Sam was surprised by how casually she mentioned the epic fuck-up of the previous year, but he had to admit she had a point. “Shit,” he said, not really sure what to do with the new perspective on the situation. “What about Kurt, though?”

“What about him?” Santana shrugged and picked her fork back up to help finish off the cake. “They’re done so it’s really none of his business, but if it really gets your panties in that much of a twist it’s not like you can’t ask him. You do live in his house.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a genius, Santana?” Sam smiled and let her have the last bite of ice cream. 

She took it willingly, grinning as she said, “Only every goddamn day, so don’t you forget it. Also, I’m a fucking saint for putting up with this crap so next time _you’re_ buying _me_ dinner. I wouldn’t object to a little bling, either.”

\---

Sam stepped back into the Hummel-Hudson residence with mild trepidation, holding a to-go box containing an entire Breadstix cheesecake that he’d bought just in case. Cheesecake was Kurt’s kryptonite, and it couldn’t hurt to butter him up a little before coming clean about Blaine. Fortunately, he didn’t have to look far, because Kurt was sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop, headphones in and humming a song Sam didn’t recognize.

He looked up when Sam entered the room, and pulled his headphones out of his ears to say, “Hey! How was dinner? Please tell me Santana didn’t get anyone fired this time.”

Panicking a little, Sam smiled nervously and set the box in front of Kurt. “I brought you a cheesecake,” he said, not really answering the question.

Kurt opened the box and looked appreciatively at the contents. “A whole cheesecake, wow. Did you ruin a pair of my Doc Martins or something?” he joked, but immediately got serious when Sam didn’t laugh along with him. “Oh my god you ruined a pair of my Doc Martins, didn’t you?”

“No!” Sam protested, and when Kurt relaxed, he sat down at the table with him. “I just wanted to talk to you. About Blaine.”

“Oh,” Kurt said simply, and he shut his laptop and sat back, ready to listen but seeming sort of uncomfortable with the subject matter. 

Figuring it was best to just bite the bullet and come out with it, Sam said, “I’m into him. I asked him out but I feel like a scumbag because you and I are bros and I don’t know how bros before hoes works when we’re all dudes and I’m bros with the ho too but I figured I should like... say something.”

He looked up, thinking he’d be met with rage or depression or a cheesecake in his face but instead Kurt was just kind of gaping at him, stunned but not unhappy. “Oh my god,” he said, smiling a little in a way that caught Sam completely off-guard. “Mercedes totally owes me twenty bucks.”

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ” asked Sam, because of all the reactions he’d imagined he could get from Kurt after asking to date his ex, a delighted grin was not one of them.

Kurt seemed to remember what they were talking about and he schooled his face into a more reserved expression before apologizing. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “It’s just, Mercedes and I had this bet back in junior year- forget it. So you’re into Blaine?”

Sam wasn’t totally sure what weird twilight zone he’d stepped into, so he proceeded with caution. “Uh... yeah. You’re not mad that I want to date him?”

A little of Kurt’s earlier discomfort seemed to seep back into his posture, and he stood up, rummaging through a nearby drawer and emerging with two forks. Handing one to Sam, he flipped open the Breadstix box and gestured to Sam to start eating as he sat back down. “I mean,” he said around a mouthful of cheesecake, “I’m not going to lie and say I’m totally okay with what happened and that I’m over it and taking the high road, but it’s not like I can tell you who to like.” Sam relaxed a little and he took a hesitant bite of cheesecake as Kurt continued. “I want him to be happy, though, and I want you to be happy too so if that means you guys dating I guess I can’t really object.”

“Thanks Kurt,” Sam said. “You’re being way cooler about this than I would have been.”

“Don’t think too highly of me,” responded Kurt. “I’m probably going to send at least three emails to Rachel tonight bitching about how being a good person sucks. I’ve got the first one composed in my head already.”

Sam laughed, glad that the tension had dissipated. “So you’re really okay with it?”

“I’ll be fine, Sam. Just... be careful.” Sam was about to interject, but before he could figure out how to tactfully tell Kurt that he wasn’t really afraid of Blaine cheating on him, Kurt continued. “With him,” he added, like he’d sensed Sam’s misunderstanding. “He trusts people too much and things get messed up pretty quickly when he thinks he’s let them down. I don’t want either of you to get hurt. It sucks.”

Nodding, Sam met Kurt’s gaze. “I’ll do my best, man,” he said, trying not to sound too happy about the fact that he was totally benefiting from Kurt’s breakup.

Kurt smiled, digging back into the cheesecake with renewed vigor after having abandoned it briefly to talk. “Now go,” he said. “Leave me to be bitter with my cheesecake in peace. Just know that I called the gay thing before you two had even met.”

“Not gay, dude,” Sam clarified, pushing back from the kitchen table and standing up, “but I guess on this one you were close enough.” He stepped into the hall, pretending not to hear the first few excited seconds of Kurt’s immediate phone call to Mercedes.

\---

Sam had a call of his own to make, so he climbed the stairs and dialed Blaine as soon as his bedroom door was shut behind him. It was a little suspicious how quickly the call went to voicemail, but he figured he’d accomplished enough already that he couldn’t back out over one message.

“Blaine, hey!” he said nervously. “So I got back from Kentucky last night and I would have called earlier but Santana made me go shopping with her and I barely got out alive but-” he was cut off momentarily by the call-waiting tone and held his phone away from his head to see who it was.

Seeing that it was Blaine, he quickly answered the call. “Hey!” he said. “I was just leaving you a message, what’s up?”

“I only have a few seconds,” Blaine answered in a hushed tone. “Cooper got a part as a background actor on a Disney Channel show and he’s making us sit through a slideshow of pictures he took of Vanessa Hudgens. I don’t have the heart to tell him she hasn’t been in one of those since like, 2008.”

Sam laughed, partly because it was ridiculous enough to be true and partly because he could hear Cooper in the background yelling, _”Hey Squirt, hurry up! You’re missing the best part!”_

“The actual best part is that the girl he’d been taking pictures of is another extra and she must have been flattered by the mistake because they’re getting dinner when he gets back to LA. He still doesn’t realize she’s not Vanessa Hudgens,” Blaine informed him, and Sam laughed even harder.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” he said. “You’re gonna be at Sugar’s house for New Year’s Eve, right? I’m still a little afraid of her and I don’t want to go in alone.”

He could hear Blaine smile through the phone before he said, “We can do it together, partners in crime and all that- _Cooper, I get it, I’m coming!_ Sorry, Sam. I have to go. I’ll meet you there tomorrow night?”

Sam confirmed the time and hung up, allowing himself to be thrilled for approximately three whole minutes before freaking the fuck out.

\---

The next morning passed relatively quickly in a haze of mild hysteria. Sam called Santana twice before she told him to stop being a bitch about it and threatened to shove his phone down his throat ( _”Your mouth may be big but do you really think it can fit a cellphone_ and _Anderson’s dick at the same time? It’s up to you if you wanna take that risk.”_ ) before he gave up on her being at all helpful. He showered too early, got dressed too late, and by the time he got in his car people had been at Sugar’s house for a while.

Finn had offered to drive him, but Sam hadn’t quite been ready yet and had no plans to drink anyway, so he’d absently waved goodbye without thinking. Eventually he did manage to pull up to Sugar’s house and find a parking space in her immense driveway, but he took another minute to pull himself together before actually walking through the front door.

The party was in full force and Sam only recognized about half of the people he saw, but it was easy enough to find a few familiar faces. He stopped to talk to a few guys from the football team and was halfway through a Tim Tebow impression when his phone buzzed with a message from Blaine that said, “ _hey, are you here? I want you with me at midnight._ ”

The not-quite-subtle confirmation that Blaine really wanted to do this with him, the implication that he’d thought about it and actively chosen Sam, gave Sam a boost of confidence he hadn’t realized he’d needed. He excused himself and determinedly set off to find Blaine.

It wasn’t an easy task, however. Sugar’s house was nothing short of huge and it was another half hour before one of the band kids said he’d seen a bunch of glee kids in the kitchen. Sam thanked him and hoped they’d still be there by the time he made it downstairs.

The time it took him to work his way through the slowly-building crowd of partygoers was enough for him to get antsy, so by the time he reached the kitchen and saw Blaine he’d become a man with a mission. 

“Sam, hey-” Blaine started to say, but determined to keep his momentum going, Sam strode forward, grabbed his face with both hands, and cut him off with a short but thorough kiss. His hands slid to Blaine’s shoulders and Blaine leaned into the touch, and when they parted he seemed surprised but pleased. Sam grinned.

A polite cough from off to the side alerted them to the presence of most of the New Directions staring at them and looking stunned. Nervous, Sam said the first thing he could think of. “I mean, it’s New Year’s Eve, right?” he asked, “Gotta get in the spirit of things.”

Blaine’s shoulders shook a little in his attempt to not laugh. “Sam,” he said. “It’s nine o’clock. You’re a little early, man.”

“Oh,” Sam said, turning to address his friends, “I guess this probably doesn’t make any sense then, huh.”

Tina was the one who finally broke the silence. “I’m not sure it would have made sense either way.”

\---

After a cursory explanation, Sam and Blaine excused themselves and ended up leaving the party altogether, not wanting to have to dodge any more questions before they’d had a real conversation of their own.

They ended up in the Chipotle parking lot, convincing the employees to let them in right before closing time with the promise that they’d take their food to go. They ate their burritos in Sam’s car and counted down to midnight using the clock on Blaine’s iPhone.

It was simple, it was straightforward, and it was perfect. Most importantly, it was _theirs_ , and it came with the promise of a good year to come.


End file.
